


No Good Deed

by dillonmania



Series: The Dillonsverse [11]
Category: The Flash (Comic)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Family, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-03
Updated: 2012-06-23
Packaged: 2017-11-04 18:20:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/396807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dillonmania/pseuds/dillonmania
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone's favourite middle-aged ex-Rogues try something different: heroism.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. No Good Deed

On a quiet weekday afternoon, Lisa and Roscoe Dillon were tidying the house…before the kids came home from school and messed it up again. The television was on, tuned to a local channel for background noise, and they occasionally paid it idle attention as they worked.  
“Hmm, there’s a breaking news story,” Lisa noted as a breathless reporter blurted information at the camera. She turned up the volume to listen.  
“…sources say several Rogues are hiding out in the building, holding a small girl hostage. Police have the building surrounded and are waiting to see what happens next, as nobody has been able to contact the Flash…”  
“That’s awful,” Lisa said sorrowfully, and put her arms around her husband. “Poor little girl. I wish there was something we could to do to help.”  
Roscoe imagined to himself that the girl looked like Star when she was younger, and felt uncomfortable. It could be his daughter trapped with those maniacs, and that bothered him.   
“Maybe we _can_ help…” he said slowly. “I have superpowers. Who says the Flash has a monopoly on heroism?”  
“You’re not serious?” Lisa asked, startled, and he nodded.  
“I can do it alone if you don’t want to, hon,” he suggested, heading for the attic to retrieve his old uniform, but she hurried after him.  
“No way! You’re not going to have all the fun,” she announced with determination, and ran past him to get there first.

Five minutes later they were putting on the finishing touches of their costumes. Roscoe’s fit more comfortably than Lisa’s, as his was made of stretch fabric and could accommodate his extra pounds more easily, though Lisa wasn’t very happy with her situation.  
“Oh my God, I’ve gained so much weight!” she wailed as she fiddled with the overly-tight buttons around her bosom.  
“No you haven’t,” he soothed. “You look fine.”  
“It’s too tight!”  
“We have a job to do, hon, let’s worry about that later.”  
They were heading for the front door to leave the house when they suddenly encountered a surprised-looking Star and Nate returning home from school.  
“Um, what the hell..?” Nate asked with confusion when he saw how they were dressed, and his mother gave a nervous little laugh.  
“We’re, uh, going out to be superheroes. We’ll be back later,” she told them.  
“A kid needs rescuing downtown,” Roscoe added brusquely, and walked past them.  
“Way to go Mom and Dad!” Nate cheered, and Star gave Lisa a hug.  
“Good luck, guys,” Star whispered in her mother’s ear. She felt proud of her parents for the first time since learning they’d once been criminals.  
“Thanks honey,” Lisa replied gratefully, taking to the air on her skates. Roscoe began to spin, since he could move faster that way, and together they headed downtown.

At the site of the hostage-taking, the police were still surrounding the building and figuring out what to do next. They were extraordinarily dismayed to see two newcomers approaching, because the older officers recognized them almost immediately.  
“Oh, great,” Fred Chyre groaned as he and the rest of the cops pointed their guns at the converging figures. “Just what we needed: more Rogues.”  
“Hold it right there!” Jared Morillo shouted. “Don’t come any closer, or we’ll shoot!”  
Lisa paused on her ice slide in mid-air, and Roscoe came to a halt in the road.  
“We’re here to help!” Lisa declared, putting up her hands as a show of faith, but the officers didn’t lower their guns.  
“Yeah, right. Here to help your buddies is more like it. I thought you two retired!” Chyre shouted back.  
“We did, but we have children of our own. We want to help rescue the girl,” Roscoe explained calmly. “I don’t see the Flash around here, so you are out of your element.”  
He took a step forward, and about ten guns were suddenly cocked. He took another step, and several cops fired at him. Lisa screamed in fear for her husband’s life, but he telekinetically deflected the bullets with ease.  
“We’re wasting time,” Roscoe told them. “Will you let me past?”  
Chyre lowered his gun. “We probably can’t stop him anyway,” he muttered, and the other cops slowly followed.  
“Excellent,” Roscoe replied, all business, and Lisa swooped down to join him on the ground.  
“What now, baby?” she asked as the cops watched them warily.  
“I’m going inside to grab the kid. You stay out here, it’s too dangerous for you.”  
“I’m not a china doll, Roscoe! I can handle myself like you can!”  
“I have powers, and you don’t. Stay here.”  
He suddenly spun away, startling all the cops and leaving behind his very angry wife.  
“Hmph,” she muttered irritably, crossing her arms.

A green and yellow blur sped into the old building, moving up the stairs in seconds. It wasn’t difficult to figure out where the Rogues and their hostage were holed up, because he could hear men’s laughter and a child’s crying from one of the rooms. In an instant, he was in the doorway.  
“Let the girl go,” he ordered, and the young Rogues stared at him.  
“Who the hell are you?” one demanded, flinging a razor-sharp playing card at him, but his telekinetic shield easily blocked it.  
“One of your predecessors, and certainly one of your betters,” Roscoe declared grumpily, quite unimpressed with this new generation of Rogues. “I warned you. Now _spin_.”  
The villains and little girl suddenly grabbed their heads in pain from his vertigo-inducement attack, and many fell over, disoriented.  
“I’m dizzy!” one of the stupider Rogues shouted, stating the obvious. “What’s he doing to us?”  
“Stop him!”   
Another pulled out some kind of ray gun and fired at him, but the shot went wild due to the young man’s difficulty maintaining balance. Roscoe laughed.  
“If that’s the best you can do, no wonder crime is on the decline in this city.”  
“Hey Grandpa -- how’s this?” a new voice called, and Roscoe suddenly clutched at his own head.  
“What...?” he gasped, knees buckling under him. He was desperately struggling against an overwhelming urge to sleep, and though his mental powers gave him a degree of protection against such attacks, it was a losing battle. His own vertigo effect ceased and the others got to their feet, watching him stagger around until he collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

“Good work, bro,” the young leader praised, and the Rogue who’d brought him down exchanged a high five with the others.  
“Whadda we do with him?” one asked, and the others grinned.  
“Cut him to bits,” Double Down laughed. “We’ll hang him out the window as a warning to the cops and the Flash.”  
“I don’t think so!” Lisa announced, zipping into the room on her skates. She slashed Double Down’s chest as he screamed in pain, and quickly manoeuvred out of the way of the men who tried to grab her.  
“Kill the bitch!” Double Down shrieked furiously, and she zoomed out the way she’d come, the men in hot pursuit. That left Roscoe lying alone on the floor, so the little girl -- now without anyone guarding her -- ran over to him.  
“Wake up, mister!” she urged, shaking him desperately, and he moaned softly. “Mister, wake up!”  
“Oh damn…” he groaned, slowly rubbing his eyes. Through a haze, he could hear the commotion of the Rogues chasing Lisa, but didn’t know what was happening.  
“We have to get out of here `fore they come back!” the girl told him, and he struggled to his knees.  
“Yes. Let’s go,” he said wearily. He heard Lisa scream as she was hit by the ray gun elsewhere in the building, and his eyes widened in horror. “Lisa…”  
Arms and legs feeling rubbery and weak, he lifted the girl and held her to his chest. “Hold on, sweetie. Whatever you do, don’t let go.”  
As soon as she put her arms around his neck, he began to spin. He wasn’t moving at even near top speed due to exhaustion, but she threw up all over him and he kept going. They spun down the stairs and past two Rogues, who were startled by the blur, and rushed outside to the police. There, he gave the dazed girl to the officers and headed back inside to find his wife.

Lisa was lying on the floor, straining to break free from the two men holding her down.  
“You bitch…” Double Down fumed at her, still bleeding heavily. “I’m gonna take that out of your sweet little hide.”  
She spat in his face and he slapped her, but then he was suddenly lifted into the air and slammed headfirst into the wall.  
“Don’t you ever touch my wife again,” Roscoe growled, eyes glowing a bright green. Everyone in the vicinity, including Lisa, rose into the air and struggled to get down, but he held them fast with telekinesis. Double Down was repeatedly sent crashing into the wall, crying out in pain with each hit, but his wails were getting weaker. Roscoe then dropped him and focused on the other Rogues, viciously beating them against a wall or other solid object until they’d been severely injured. Only when they were all limp and silent did he let Lisa down and run to her side.

“Are you all right?” he asked anxiously, looking at the nasty burn on her leg. She smiled up at him, glad to see him, but a little frightened by what he’d done to the men.  
“Yeah, it’ll heal. It hurts, but I’m okay. How about you, sexybutt?”  
“I’m all right. Covered in kid-vomit, but fine…thanks to you. Obviously I was wrong about you going in -- you did great work,” he said tenderly as he picked her up and carried her outside.  
“Glad you noticed,” she teased, rubbing his face affectionately as he put her down on the grass, and several paramedics ran over to examine her. Roscoe fell to his knees, exhausted, and a police officer draped a blanket over his shoulders; the other cops rushed into the building and took the young Rogues into custody. The little girl ran over and hugged him, and thinking of his daughter, he hugged her back.  
“You two did a good job,” Chyre said with grudging appreciation, shaking both their hands, and they smiled at each other with proud satisfaction.  
“So this is what it feels like to be a hero,” Roscoe noted as he pulled off his sweaty mask. He figured everyone knew who he was anyway. “Not bad, I guess.”  
“And so sexy in that uniform,” Lisa winked as her leg was bandaged. “I think you’ll have to wear it to bed tonight.”  
“Why would I wear..?” he asked, confused, and then it dawned on him. “Ah. Of course. Well, only if you wear yours too, hon...”


	2. Fallout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even heroics have consequences.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Star groaned when she saw her father return home with several extra copies of the day’s newspaper. He smirked at her.  
“Sorry to embarrass you,” he replied cheerfully, dropping the papers next to Lisa, who beamed delightedly at them. She had the scrapbook beside her, and immediately began cutting out the news’ main story for permanent commemoration: an article about how former Rogues the Top and Golden Glider had rescued a child and defeated some of the current-day Rogues. With a nice colour photo on the front page, of course.  
“You guys are really pleased with yourselves, huh?” Star commented dryly, and Roscoe grinned.  
“Of course. Aren’t you?”  
She had to admit that she was. She’d been shocked and upset to learn that her parents had once been criminals, and this went a long way to rehabilitating their reputation in public and in her own mind. Now she was only ashamed of them for the typical teenage reasons, not because they’d been crooks and supervillains.

“Ha, you guys look so badass,” Nate remarked as he wandered in and peeked at the front page photograph. “But those stripes make you look kinda fat, Dad. You should switch to vertical stripes like Uncle James.”  
“I am not changing my uniform,” Roscoe said in a somewhat unamused tone. “Besides, it’s not really important -- I’m not planning to go out in it much. If at all.”  
“You aren’t gonna team up with the Flash to fight crime and stuff?” Nate asked with some disappointment.  
“Absolutely not. I am forty-three years old, and not quite superhero material. The Flash can go to Hell.”  
“Dad said the Flash can go to Hell!” Nate exclaimed delightedly, laughing with juvenile glee. He tried to give his father a high five, but Roscoe merely stared at him.  
“Oh, hush,” Lisa scolded them both. “Roscoe, you’re setting a bad example. Nate, stop egging him on.”  
“C’mon, Mom, you’re no fun,” Nate complained, but she simply gave him a stern look before turning back to her newspapers and scrapbook. With quiet grumbling, the boy shoved his hands into his pockets and left to get something to eat.

Ten minutes later, the adults were still clipping the newspapers when the doorbell rang. Lisa was still resting the leg injured during the scuffle with the Rogues, and Star informed her parents that she couldn’t answer it lest it was a boy she was interested in, so Roscoe went to the door. He was startled to see the Flash standing there.  
“Hello. May I come in?” the masked hero asked when Roscoe paused before speaking.  
“Uh, yes. Certainly.”  
“Who’s there, baby?” Lisa called from the living room, and Roscoe shook his head as he showed the guest through the hall.  
“You’ll never be able to guess…” he muttered under his breath, a little wary to have the Flash walking right behind him. Too many years of conditioning made him worry it was a trap, no matter what his rational mind told him.  
“Oh my God, it’s the Flash!” Star exclaimed when the familiarly-clad man stepped into the room with her father. Lisa dropped the scrapbook in shock.  
“Please don’t get up,” the Flash urged when he noticed Lisa struggling to her feet despite her injury. “And call me Wally. How’s your leg?”  
“Well, it hurts a bit, but it’s not bad,” she replied, settling back into her reclining chair with the leg propped up. “Thanks for asking.”

“Sit wherever you like,” Roscoe offered, keeping a cautious eye on his former enemy as the younger man sat down. He’d known the Flash’s predecessor better than Wally himself, but was well aware Wally had been Kid Flash when he was still active as a criminal. And the red suit itself made him uncomfortable, bringing back many unpleasant memories.  
“Star, go get him a drink,” Lisa told her daughter tersely, but Wally shook his head no.  
“Thanks, but I can’t stay for long. I just came to talk.”  
“About...?” Roscoe asked with some suspicion, sitting down across from him.  
“First, I wanted to say thanks for the good work you did yesterday! I was busy taking care of Justice League business on the other side of the planet, so I appreciate you rescuing that little girl for me. You guys did a great job, though I hear the Rogues aren’t in such good shape due to the beating you gave them…”  
“They injured and threatened Lisa. I wasn’t going to stand for that,” Roscoe said curtly.  
“Hey, I understand. Just something to keep in mind, that’s all,” Wally replied. “But really, I wanted to know why you did it…rescuing her, I mean. It’s not something I’d expect from, uh…you guys.”  
“Because we’re criminal scumbags, correct?” Roscoe demanded with irritation, and Wally looked uncomfortable.  
“Baby, shush!” Lisa chided him. “It’s a perfectly valid question. We did it because we were worried about the little girl -- we have children of our own, as you can see. We didn’t want her to get hurt.”  
“We’re not completely evil, contrary to popular belief,” Roscoe muttered, but was largely ignored.  
“You’ll have to excuse my husband, he’s terribly grumpy,” Lisa said sweetly, and Star was certain her mother was flirting with the Flash.

“It’s just that…I remember you trying to blow up the planet, and trying to kill Uncle Barry, and you stole millions of dollars over the years. You’re a Rogue. Even after you retired, you tried to wreck a mall. I didn’t mean any offence, it just surprised me, that’s all,” Wally said to Roscoe with confusion, and injured leg or not, Lisa sprang to her feet and darted over to her husband before he could lose his temper. She could see the rage building. Putting an arm around him and pulling him against her ample cleavage to calm him (it was difficult to stay angry when pressed against her breasts), she smiled broadly at Wally.  
“Oh, Roscoe has put that all behind him, haven’t you, baby? And the medication helps. Really, Wally, he’s a changed man.”  
“Yes,” said Roscoe, voice muffled by her bosom.

“That’s really great,” Wally replied with genuine gladness. “Maybe you guys could help me out in the future, help me take down the Rogues sometimes. You must have insider knowledge about them that could be useful, especially on the older guys.”  
Lisa frowned, and Roscoe started to laugh, pulling away from her comfortable chest.  
“Why would we do that? They’re our friends,” he scoffed. “We’re retired, not _traitors_.”  
“It’s just that…maybe when they’re robbing a bank or something…you could help me defeat them so we can do it quickly, with less damage…” Wally suggested in a faltering tone, noticing the increasing hostility from his hosts. “A guy like Captain Cold would be easy to take down with some help.”  
“Captain Cold is my _brother_ ,” Lisa said stonily, and the Flash’s eyes went wide. He’d completely forgotten that.  
“Uh, sorry…look, I guess this was a bad idea,” Wally mumbled. “I didn’t mean to offend you or anything.”  
“What do we care if the Rogues rob a bank?” Roscoe asked, although he was privately amused by the idea of sabotaging his brother-in-law’s criminal activities. “That’s not our problem. If a person’s in trouble, give us a call, and we’ll help. If it’s just theft, who cares? Let the police deal with it.”  
“Sometimes the cops get hurt engaging the Rogues!” Wally replied, appalled.  
“Then tell them to be careful. If you need us, you know where to find us.”  
Wally stood up, glaring darkly at both of them. “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind. See you two around…maybe.”  
He startled everyone by running out of the house at super-speed, slamming the front door behind him. Nate, who’d been listening to his headphones in the kitchen as he ate, felt the vibrations and poked his head into the living room.  
“Hey, who was that? Anyone interesting?”

The next couple of days passed uneventfully in the Dillon household; Nate was chagrined to have missed seeing the Flash, Star had a secret crush on him now, and their parents were still annoyed at him.  
“He has some nerve!” Lisa fumed for the umpteenth time. “Trying to get us to turn on our _family_.”  
“I told you he was a jerk,” Roscoe said mildly as he browsed the morning newspaper. He was irritated that he had to squint to read the text, because he was in denial about needing glasses. “But no one ever listens to me.”  
Over the years, Lisa had learned to tune out his various rantings, knowing full well some of them were not entirely based in reality. As always, she smiled indulgently and pretended not to hear him.  
“No way, the Flash is awesome,” Nate objected. “He can do anything. You should invite him back for dinner so I can meet him.”  
“He is not eating at my dinner table,” Lisa scowled. “And anyway, he doesn’t like us any more than we like him, so it’s not going to happen.”  
“He’d like us if we agreed to be his little tame Rogues,” sniffed Roscoe dismissively. “Yes, Mr. Flash! Whatever you say, Mr. Flash! Crime is terrible, Mr. Flash!”  
Lisa giggled and hugged him. “You’re too funny, baby.”

The doorbell rang moments later, and everyone wondered if it was the Flash again; the timing was just too perfect. So Nate ran to the door, hoping he’d finally get to meet the city’s superhero, and was a bit disappointed to see his Uncle Len instead.  
“Hey kid,” Len greeted him with a grave expression. “I gotta talk to your folks.”  
“Sure thing,” Nate replied. “They’re in the living room.”  
“Thanks,” Len said distractedly, and handed the boy a fifty dollar bill without realizing what he was doing. His nephew was not about to complain.  
“Kids, clear out,” Len announced as he entered the living room. “I need to talk to your mom and dad alone.”  
Star and Nate left the room with puzzled faces, wondering what could be bothering their uncle. He didn’t seem his usual jovial self, and had never kicked them out before.

“What’s wrong, Lenny?” Lisa asked with concern, and he shook his head in disbelief.  
“What were you two thinking, going after the Rogues like that?” he demanded. “Lisa, you slashed Double Down? And Dillon, you put `em in the hospital!”  
“So?” Roscoe grumbled. “They were holding a child hostage, knocked me unconscious, and God only knows what they were going to do to Lisa. I shed no tears for them.”  
“The Rogues know you’re my family, you idiots! They deposed me!” Len snarled angrily. They stared at him in shock. “I’m no longer welcome with them, so thanks a fucking lot! All because you two decided to play hero!”  
“Oh Lenny, I’m so sorry…” Lisa began softly, distressed. “I never thought it could hurt you. We just wanted to help an innocent child.”  
“No, you never think, do you? An’ now I’ve lost everything!”  
“Don’t you dare talk to her that way,” Roscoe told him sharply. “Do you even give a damn about that kid? Or that your precious buddies might have beaten or raped your sister? I don’t believe being cut off from them is much of a loss -- you still have your family, for one thing.”  
“I’m not gonna take shit from you,” Len growled, attempting to punch him, but his brother-in-law easily dodged his fury. Rage made him sloppy, and Lisa intervened before it could escalate.  
“Lenny, for goodness’ sake, stop it! He’s right, you know! I’m sorry for what happened, but we weren’t going to stand back and let them hurt that child. The Rogues didn’t do that in our day, and I can’t say I’m impressed with how things are now.”  
“I didn’t know they were doing it. I’d have punished them if I’d known,” Len said sullenly.  
“And they shot me in the leg, hit me, and threatened to do more. Roscoe had to rescue me, after I’d rescued him from them. Honestly, you’re better off without them.”

“Well, what do I do now?” Len groused despondently. “I can’t get a legit job. I’m cut off from my second family….and I’m getting up in years. I’ll be easy pickings for the Flash!”  
“Didn’t you put any money away?” Roscoe asked.  
“Not a lot…I figured I’d have this gig for a bunch more years,” Len admitted with some embarrassment. “The Rogues would take care of me, like always.”  
“Lenny…” Lisa sighed. “We can help you, but the kids will be going to college in a few years. We can’t throw around money like we used to.”  
“I hear ya. I don’t want to be a burden, sis. I’ll make my way somehow…not sure how yet, but I’ll figure out something.”  
“You can stay with us for now,” she suggested thoughtfully, not noticing the look of absolute alarm on her husband’s face. Normally, Len would have turned down her offer, as he wasn’t _that_ hard up for cash, but the idea of staying close to family appealed to him right now, since he’d just been estranged from his other family. He expected to be lonely for a while.  
“That might be nice. Thanks, Lisa,” he said gratefully, and did notice his brother-in-law’s worried dismay, so he grinned wickedly at him. “I’m sure we’ll have a great time, Dillon.”  
“Oh God,” Roscoe muttered under his breath. “Why me?”  
“He can sleep in the TV room, or on the couch,” Lisa pondered aloud, ignoring or unaware of Roscoe’s distress. “We have plenty of space.”  
“We’ll be one big happy family,” Len declared with a smirk, putting his arms around them both, and Roscoe made an unidentifiable sound. Lisa just smiled, already delighted by the prospect of a new project and having her brother around, so she clapped her hands excitedly.  
“The kids will be so thrilled! Baby, where are you going?”  
“Need a beer,” Roscoe mumbled as he wandered off.  
“It’s not even noon yet!” she protested with firm disapproval, hands on hips. “And you’re not supposed to drink with your meds.”  
“…need a beer.”


	3. A Test Of Patience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Family do not always make good houseguests.

Moving day was not a lot of fun for Roscoe, who struggled and groaned under the weight of his brother-in-law’s possessions. Len claimed he’d injured his back and carried only some of the lightweight items, telling Roscoe he didn’t trust him using “freaky mind powers” to move things. Thus Roscoe ended up doing most of the work himself, lifting more than his own middle-aged back could handle. He strongly suspected Len was doing it to torment him, and secretly used telekinesis to augment the heavier loads.

“Why didn’t you just pay someone to move this junk?” Roscoe grunted as he carried a huge clunky TV into the house. “And we have a television, so you could have thrown out this one.”  
“And buy it all again when I move out?” Len asked indignantly. “Nope.”  
“The least you could do is help me carry it.”  
“My back…” came the innocent reply, with a practiced grimace of pain. Roscoe gave him the evil eye and brought the television into the spare room that was to be Len’s for the duration of his stay, placing it carefully on the floor.  
“Hey! Put it on the table!”  
“ _You_ put it on the table. I’ve got other stuff to bring in.”  
“My _back_ , Dillon.”  
“It’s funny that you injured it just yesterday,” Roscoe said acerbically as he hefted the television again and placed it on the table. “What terrible timing.”  
“Yeah, ain’t it?” Len grinned. “Oh well, at our age these things happen.”  
Roscoe stomped back out to the van, muttering under his breath.

Nate and Star carried some of the smaller items under their mother’s watchful supervision.  
“Isn’t it cool, Dad?” Nate enthused. “Uncle Len said he’s gonna teach me to play poker.”  
“Did he really?” Roscoe asked with a raised eyebrow.  
“Yeah, and I saw some of his decks…they all have naked chicks on them,” the teenager said gleefully in a conspiratorial whisper so Lisa didn’t hear. It was difficult for Roscoe to condemn this, as he’d played with the same type of cards at that age, but he still didn’t approve.  
“I suppose I’ll have a conversation with Uncle Len soon,” he replied in an unamused tone, much to Nate’s dismay.  
“Aw, Dad, c’mon! I wanna learn how to play poker! And I wanna play with…those cards,” he complained, censoring the description lest his mother overhear.  
“We’ll discuss it later,” Roscoe said gruffly, hoisting a heavy box and lugging it inside. He brought it to Len’s room, where the man was resting comfortably on the new fold-up bed, and dropped the box roughly on the floor. The box broke open upon impact and a huge cache of porn magazines spilled out.  
“Oops,” he declared sarcastically. “How clumsy of me.”  
“Hey, what the hell?!” Len demanded. “You could’ve broken something, dipshit!”  
“Then I guess you’d better carry everything yourself, to keep it safe,” Roscoe told him rudely, dusting off his hands and walking back outside. Len grumbled loudly to himself and followed.

Dinner the next evening was a lively affair, with Len sharing fun anecdotes of life as a Rogue and liberally peppering them with plenty of foul language. Lisa scolded her brother for the profanity, but was enjoying the stories, and the kids hung on every word. Perhaps predictably, Roscoe said little.  
“Ooh, remember the time we all robbed that ritzy jewellery store in Central City?” Lisa asked with a laugh.  
“Was that the time Mick set the place on fire?”  
“No! It was Mark, when he shorted out the electrical system!”  
“Oh yeah. But Mick got real excited or something, `cause he started feeding the fire, and soon it was a pretty big inferno. And then Dillon freaked out.”  
“I did not freak out. We were trapped and nearly burned to death, so a little concern was warranted,” Roscoe said dourly, annoyed by the memory. Seeing his wife and kids giggle about it irritated him further.

“Sure thing, ya big baby. So he’s freaking out and Mick’s having a great time, and then some of the jewellery starts to melt! That made Scudder pretty mad, so he dumped us all into a mirror dimension for a fast escape. None of us had ever been through anything like that before, so we were all puking our guts out.”  
“I threw up on Roscoe,” Lisa said with a smile. “And then he said -- I’ve never forgotten it -- “This is the worst date I’ve ever been on”.” She started laughing, and her husband cracked a grin despite himself.  
“That’s kinda cute,” Star snickered, “in a gross bodily fluids way.”  
“Star, honey, if a man still wants to go out with you after you’ve thrown up all over him, you know he’s a keeper,” Lisa added fondly, taking Roscoe’s hand and patting his thigh gently under the table.

“Ugh, mushy,” complained Nate. “Let’s hear more puke stories.”  
“Can’t think of any more,” Len said, scratching his head. “At least none that don’t involve getting stinking drunk.”  
“Yeah, drunk stories!” Nate cheered excitedly.  
“No drunk stories, not until you’re older,” Lisa said firmly. “Lenny, you shouldn’t encourage him to drink.”  
“I’m not encouraging him to drink! At least any more than we’re encouraging him to steal!”  
Roscoe started to chuckle at this, as he actually agreed that Len had a point, but his wife glared at him and he stopped.

“I’m not gonna start drinking, Mom,” Nate grumbled loudly, more than a bit offended by her lack of faith in him. But Lisa had her reasons for fearing alcohol abuse in the family.  
“You _know_ Dad was an alcoholic,” she hissed at Len under her breath. “That stuff runs in families, and I won’t have my kids drinking for as long as I can help it. You already drink too much as it is.”  
“Calm down Lisa, I’m sorry. He’s a good kid, he won’t do anything stupid.”  
Lisa said nothing, but her face set in a worried frown as she watched over her children for the rest of the meal.

One weekend afternoon, Roscoe returned home from running solo errands to find the house locked and quiet. It was mostly dark, but he saw a light in the living room as he wandered through the shadowy front hall. And heard the oddest noises, which sounded distinctly like sex or making out.  
His first thought was that Lisa had brought home a lover -- even though that was forbidden, as per the terms of their agreement -- and then a second, more terrifying realization that it might be one of the kids. Either of these options worried and angered him, so he rushed ahead and barged into the room. Len and a woman stared back at him in surprise, both half-naked on the couch.

“Len!” he exclaimed, still shocked but relieved it wasn’t who he’d feared. “What the hell are you doing?”  
“Oh shit…” Len croaked. “I’m sorry…”  
“In the living room? On the couch?” Roscoe demanded, indignation rising. “What if one of the kids came home and saw you?”  
“Don’t tell Lisa, Dillon…please.”  
“Why shouldn’t I? She’ll be angrier than I am.”  
“You can, uh…you can sleep with Angie here. I’ll pay.”  
“What?” Roscoe asked with surprise. Len looked pretty desperate, and the woman just shrugged.  
“Yeah, if you keep your mouth shut, you can sleep with her. I know you and Lisa have a weird open relationship. What do you say?” 

Roscoe frowned. In fact, he and Lisa had never discussed _him_ sleeping around, but the topic had never really come up. He supposed it was only fair, and part of him thought it might be a nice change. Another part realized that rejecting the offer would give him leverage over Len, and he very much enjoyed that sort of power. An inner voice reminded him that he got nervous dealing with women other than Lisa, but another voice pointed out that this needn’t be the case with a prostitute, who would simply go home after they were done…

“Forget it,” he finally said, shaking his head firmly. “Not interested. Get dressed and get out of here, both of you. Maybe I’ll tell Lisa, and maybe I won’t.”  
“Suit yourself,” Angie replied, pulling on her clothes as Len did the same. She smiled at Roscoe, who watched them sternly as they got ready to leave. “But men are like an open book to me, and you’re lying. You _are_ interested.”  
She blew him a kiss as she left the house with Len, and Roscoe treated himself to a long cold shower.

Later that night he lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about things as Lisa got ready to join him.  
“What’s on your mind?” she asked curiously as she changed into a nightgown, noticing he seemed to be brooding more than usual.  
“Nothing…” he said absently, although she didn’t believe him. When she climbed into bed, she pestered him into a sitting position and began to massage his shoulders.

“Poor baby, so tense,” she cooed, aiming to weasel information out of him, and eventually he gave in.  
“When was the last time you were with one of your boyfriends?” he asked, surprising her. She had to think about it.  
“About three months ago, maybe. Why?”  
“Oh, I don’t know. But I was wondering if our agreement about it…uh, also applies to me.”  
“You want to sleep with someone else?” she asked in surprise, and he reddened slightly but said nothing. “Well sure, I guess so. I didn’t know you wanted to.”  
“Only if it wouldn’t upset you, hon.”  
She smiled fondly at him and tweaked one of his ears. “You’ve been such a good sport over the years, so how could I let it bother me? It wouldn’t be fair.”  
“You didn’t answer the question, Lisa.”

“Well…” she began with some reluctance, but the look on his face compelled her to continue. “Maybe it would a little bit. I love that you’ve always been faithful to me even when I sleep with other men, and that’s kind of a turn-on. But like I said, how would it be fair to stop you? As long as you follow the ground rules, then we’re on a level playing field.”  
“It’s something of an academic question anyway; I was just curious.”  
“But it wouldn’t have come up after all these years if you weren’t thinking about it.”  
“I might have been…but it’s not important.”  
“Mmm-hmm,” she said dryly, not believing him for an instant. She knew him too well. “Let me know if you want to talk about it, baby.”  
“Of course,” he replied in a neutral tone, attempting to hide his feelings from her. “Good night.”  
They exchanged an affectionate kiss, and both turned over to sleep.

Len was back at the house the following morning, and deeply irritated to see Roscoe casting smug grins at him across the breakfast table.  
“Nice to see you too, Dillon,” he muttered under his breath. Lisa didn’t seem angry, so she must not have heard about his escapades the day before, but the fact that his brother-in-law was smirking at him meant he still might tell her.  
“Where’d you disappear to yesterday, Lenny?” Lisa asked casually as she sat down with some food, and he made a face.  
“Out, okay? I don’t have to answer to where I’ve been,” he grunted irritably.  
“Whatever, grumpy, I was just asking,” she replied with a roll of her eyes. Roscoe’s grin widened.

“What the fuck are you smiling at?” Len demanded. He knew, of course, but it was difficult to let things go unchallenged. Old habits died hard.  
“Your immeasurable charm,” the other man said sweetly, even more amused when Len’s hands clenched into fists. Watching him squirm, after everything Len had done to annoy him recently, was immensely fun; he knew he had a mean streak and didn’t care.  
“Stop it, you two,” Lisa chided them. “I swear, you’re worse than children sometimes.”  
Len squeezed his eyes shut, using all his willpower to keep from insulting her husband further. But Roscoe merely smiled pleasantly at him and continued eating his breakfast. Patience was something he had in spades.

Roscoe meditated silently in the living room that evening, a practice he’d adopted to calm himself and keep his moods stable. The rest of the family was used to it, but Len was unnerved by how often he ended up levitating several inches above the floor, the effect of telekinesis on a relaxed mind. That night, however, Roscoe wasn’t able to concentrate due to excited yelling from the other room.

“Do you _mind_?” he demanded irritably, sticking his head into the doorway of Len’s room. Nate and his uncle were watching a hockey game on TV, cheering and shouting angrily whenever the moment called for it.  
“Nah, I don’t care, Dillon, you’re not bothering me,” Len replied casually, barely giving him a glance.  
“I am trying to meditate. Please be quiet.”  
“We’re watchin’ the game!”  
“I can go tell Lisa about yesterday, and believe me, you won’t be watching it for very long…” Roscoe said with a wicked smile, and Len grunted in rage.

“Jesus. Fine, whatever. Keep it down, Nate, or Captain Killjoy here will give us a hard time.”  
“What’ll he tell Mom?” Nate asked, disappointed but curious.  
“Never mind,” his uncle answered curtly, quite keen to end the discussion.  
“Thank you,” Roscoe replied with a slight smile. “Oh, and Len, would you get me a Coke, please? I’m going to be thirsty after I’ve finished.”  
“Get it yourself.”  
“Oh Lisa…” Roscoe said in a sing-song voice, and Len threw the TV remote on the floor in frustration.  
“Holy fuck! You’re gonna make my life miserable, aren’t you? I’ll get you your goddamn Coke if you’ll just shut up for a few minutes!”  
“Bring it to the living room,” his brother-in-law instructed calmly, hiding his smile very well. “Ice cubes would be appreciated.”  
“I’ll bet,” Len muttered with barely-concealed fury. After Roscoe had retired to the other room to continue meditating, Len got up to pour some drinks and root through the fridge for something to eat.

Half an hour later, Roscoe had finished and was amused to find his drink waiting on a nearby table, complete with a little paper umbrella and one of Lisa’s nicer doilies under it. She would of course be furious to see the soda stains on it, which only made him chuckle further. He enjoyed the drink and the relative quiet in the house; the guys were still watching the game, but had toned down the volume considerably. So he went to make himself a late-night sandwich, and was horrified by what he discovered in the kitchen.

“Who the _hell_ ate my mustard?!” he bellowed, finding the empty jar of his favourite premium brand left open on the counter. There was already a fly picking at the remains. He immediately thought of a suspect, and rushed over to Len’s room in seething anger.  
“Did you eat my mustard?” he demanded, then noticed yellow stains on Len’s shirt. “You did!”  
“Wow, you ate Dad’s mustard?” Nate asked his uncle in awe. “Nobody’s supposed to do that.”  
“How the fuck was I supposed to know -- there wasn’t any damn sign on it!”  
“That’s because everyone already knows!” Roscoe griped at him, looking like he was about to throw a tantrum. “You’d better replace that jar tomorrow! The exact same brand! Nobody touches mine!”

“What’s going on here?” Lisa asked, having heard the yelling and gone downstairs to investigate.  
“He ate my damned mustard!”  
“For heaven’s sake, Lenny, why would you do that?” she asked with exasperation, hands on hips.  
“I didn’t know it was his!”  
“There’s other mustard in the fridge. The gourmet stuff is Roscoe’s, he won’t eat anything else.”  
“Now you tell me!” Len grumbled. “I’ll buy him some more on the weekend or something.”  
“Tomorrow!” Roscoe insisted.  
“Fine, tomorrow, if you’re gonna make a big production out of it…cripes.”  
“Go upstairs, baby, and calm down. You’re getting too worked up,” Lisa told her husband softly. “Lenny, I want to have a little talk with you.”  
Both men reluctantly obeyed, so she took her brother aside and smiled at the stomping footsteps heading upstairs as Len shook his head in disbelief.

“What the hell is his problem?” Len muttered.  
“Oh, he’s just having a hard time adjusting to you being here. Don’t mind him. I know it seems like he’s being ridiculous, but it’s tough for him. You’re disrupting his routine, so he’s stressed out. Just ignore his sillier behaviours and be understanding.”  
“It’s goddamn _mustard_ , Lisa.”  
“Yes, and it’s his. How thrilled would you be if he came to your house and ate up your favourite foods? But he’s a bit…different…from you and I, and you need to accept that.”  
“It’s friggin’ weird, that’s what it is. I’ll buy his damn crap tomorrow if it’ll keep him from having another hissy fit. But jeez, you should have told me earlier that this’d be a big deal.”  
“I didn’t think about it,” she admitted. “You can eat everything else in the fridge, it’s just the mustard that’s special. Oh, and you might not want to eat Star’s yogurt either -- she’s fairly particular about it.”  
“Dillons…” Len mumbled under his breath as he wandered away, shaking his head.

Len went out early the next morning to buy the replacement mustard, which he grumpily handed over to Roscoe with a dark glare.  
“Enjoy. You sure have expensive tastes, Dillon.”  
“It is not a crime to be discerning,” Roscoe sniffed, although he was glad to have a new jar. He’d been craving a good sandwich since the night before. “Anyway, thank you.”  
“Hey, I want to get this stupid situation with Lisa resolved so you’re not holding it over my head all the time,” Len told him before he could walk away. “What do you want from me?”  
“I’m already getting what I want.”

“Uh-huh. Didja think about the offer with Angie? She was pretty sure you did want to do her, so the offer’s still open…as long as you keep quiet about the other day.”  
It was extremely gratifying to see Roscoe blush a deep red.  
“Ha ha, pervert. I knew it,” Len smirked.  
“Yes, I would like to,” Roscoe confessed with a guilty expression. “And Lisa even gave me permission. But I’m not sure I can…I don’t feel entirely comfortable with the idea. I’ll have to think about it.”  
“Well, don’t take too long -- the offer isn’t open indefinitely, ya know. You always over-think things, Dillon, that’s your problem.”  
“Probably,” Roscoe admitted ruefully. He scratched his head uncomfortably. “Still, it’s a rather big decision. So…”  
He left his words hanging and wandered away, feeling conflicted and wanting to ponder the matter in private.

Roscoe tossed and turned all night, mindful of what Len had said about over-thinking problems, but still weighing his options. If he did sleep with another person, Angie or not, it wasn’t exactly something he could undo if it all went south. What if Lisa did get upset? What if he felt guilty? He finally got up and went to the kitchen after inadvertently waking Lisa with his restlessness. Len was already there, making himself a sandwich with the non-gourmet mustard.  
“Can’t sleep..?” his brother-in-law asked, and he nodded.  
“I can’t make a decision, and it’s bothering me.”  
“If you want to, do it. If you don’t want to, don’t do it. Simple as that. Why do you have make things so damn complicated? You’re supposed to be smart.”  
Roscoe thought about that for a moment, and it seemed to make sense. “You know, you’re right: I do want to do it, and Lisa said it was all right. I’m tired of always worrying about trying new things. Carpe diem.”

“I’ll tell Angie,” Len said with some relief, glad to have the issue resolved so he wouldn’t have to worry about more blackmail or tattling. “But I’ll bust your face if you knock her up or something.”  
“Part of the agreement with Lisa has always been very meticulous protection. I am bound by that just as she is.” It felt very odd thinking about it, however, and the sudden decisiveness he’d felt a moment ago was gone just as quickly.  
“Just you remember that,” Len warned. He too felt sudden ambivalence about his sister’s husband engaging in extramarital sex, even though he was well aware of their open relationship. He’d never approved of the arrangement, despite private amusement at the idea of her sleeping around on his obnoxious brother-in-law. But _him_ sleeping around was different.  
The situation suddenly felt very awkward, and the two men parted in silence.

Despite misgivings, Len set up a ‘date’ with Angie at a motel two days later, and Roscoe was extremely nervous about it. Like a teenager getting ready for Saturday night, he obsessively primped and dressed as though going out for dinner at a fancy restaurant. In fact, he now wished he _had_ arranged a dinner date before any sex, because he felt even more uncomfortable about sleeping with a stranger. He didn’t even know her last name.

Unfortunately he ran into Nate while leaving the house, which made things even more torturous.  
“Hey Dad, where are you going?” the boy asked curiously, not accustomed to seeing his father dressed up, and certainly not without Lisa present.  
“Out,” Roscoe said uncomfortably. “I’ll be home in a few hours.”  
“You taking the car? Can I have a ride downtown?”  
“No!” Roscoe said more quickly and loudly than was warranted, and then composed himself. “No, I’m sorry. Ask your mother.”  
“Sure thing,” Nate replied with disappointment, more than a little surprised by his father’s behaviour. Roscoe felt even worse than before as he hurried away from the house, and tried not to think about what his son would say if he knew what was transpiring.

Angie was waiting for him in the motel lobby, having already booked a room and acquired the key.  
“Breathe,” she told him with a slight smile, picking up on his anxiety, and put an arm around him as they walked to the room. It wasn’t a dump, but was still rather seedy and Roscoe wouldn’t want to stay there overnight.  
“So…” Angie said as the two of them sat on the bed, still fully clothed. He hadn’t even removed his jacket and tie. “What do you like to do? What do you want?”  
“Do you do this often?” he asked stupidly, desperately stalling for time, and she grinned at him.  
“Yeah, quite a bit. You need a drink or something first?”  
“That might help,” he agreed, and she pulled a small bottle of rye out of her purse. He quickly downed it, perfectly aware he wasn’t supposed to drink while taking meds, but she began pulling off his tie before he could finish.

“Uh, what are you doing?” he asked nervously, edging away a bit, and she sighed.  
“Sweetie, it’s obvious this isn’t really what you want. Why are you going through with it?”  
He didn’t have an answer. After a minute’s silence, he finally replied “I don’t know.”  
“You don’t have to do this, it’s not too late to back out. I won’t even tell Lenny.”  
“I think it’d be exciting to sleep with somebody else, because I have not been with a woman aside from my wife in…twenty years, I think. But this doesn’t feel right, it seems rather sordid. I think I’m going about it all wrong.” He paused and then looked at her. “No offence.”  
“None taken, sweetie, I’m still getting paid either way. But I hope you aren’t going to rat on Lenny even though things didn’t turn out here.” She’d obviously had the situation explained to her at some point.  
“I suppose I can’t; he did hold up his end of the bargain.” That was a disappointment, but fair was fair.  
“So what do you want to do?” she asked, and he shrugged. It wasn’t too late to change his mind, or ask for a quick handjob, but she was right: that wasn’t what he wanted.  
“I don’t know…you want to go out to eat?”

Roscoe was vague on what had happened when he returned home, but Len had his suspicions. The matter never came up between them again -- not the extramarital sex, nor the blackmail -- and life quieted down, at least as best it could in a household with two brothers-in-law who disliked each other. They interacted and were mostly civil, but there was always an undercurrent of tension. Having been left mostly friendless by his friction with the Rogues, Len didn’t have many people to socialize with when not with Angie, and thus was largely stuck with the Dillons. Nate was fun, but for adult company Len had to deal with Roscoe being around.

A few weeks after the incident with Angie, the adults stayed up late watching a movie, although Roscoe fell asleep before it was over. Snoring softly with his head resting on Lisa’s lap, she stroked his hair gently and smiled lovingly at him.  
“Ugh, he’s drooling,” Len remarked with disgust. “Wake him up and hit him.”  
“Oh, it’s not such a big deal,” she said patiently. “When you’ve been together as long as we have, you get all sorts of things on each other over the years. And no, I’m not talking about sex,” she scolded when her brother made a face. 

“Why do you even stay with him?” Len asked. “He’s so damn crazy and annoying, and you could have your pick of normal men. Why do you put yourself through that?”  
“Because we love each other.” Clearly irritated by the question, her mouth set in a firm line. “I love him.”  
“And yet you sleep with other guys. C’mon, Lisa, something’s not right in this relationship.”  
“You’d better mind your own business,” she snapped at him. “What I do -- what Roscoe and I agreed to -- is none of your concern. It works for us, and that’s all that matters.”  
“It’s weird. _He’s_ weird. I just want you to be happy, sis.”  
“I am happy!” Angry, her whole body jerked as she argued, jolting her sleeping husband awake and he blinked in confusion.

“What’s going on? Is the movie over?” he asked drowsily, and she clutched his hand tightly in hers.  
“No, baby, go back to sleep. Len and I are done talking, and he’s going to leave -- and by that, I mean he’s going to move out.”  
“You’re kicking me out?” Len said in disbelief. She nodded at him, scowling, and even Roscoe looked surprised.  
“Fine. This is the thanks I get for being concerned about you,” Len muttered, getting up and walking away.  
“I don’t need you messing with my family, Len!” she called after him, still angry. “I can look after myself!”  
“What was that about?” Roscoe asked, and she sniffed.  
“Never mind. He was getting nosy and rude.”  
Though it was the perfect opportunity to insult her brother, he knew better than to do so while she was irritated. Instead he just shrugged, looking up at her affectionately from his resting place on her lap.  
“You always know best, hon.”

Lisa had given Len a week to find a new place, but it only took him half that time. He started moving out as quickly as possible, feeling angry at her as well as wary of her fierce temper.  
“I wish you could stay,” Nate said sorrowfully as he watched his uncle carry out his belongings. “Mom must be PMSing or something.”  
“Yeah. But don’t let her hear you say that,” Len cautioned. He hefted the television and groaned at its immense weight. “Shit, this thing is heavy.”  
“Yes, I’d noticed,” Roscoe remarked behind him, and Len groaned a second time. He hadn’t realized his brother-in-law was present.

“What do you want, Dillon?”  
“Nate, go clear space for that thing in the van,” Roscoe instructed calmly, and the boy wandered off with his hands jammed in his pockets. “I suppose I came to help, Leonard.”  
“Why? You won, didn’t you?” Len asked sullenly. “She threw me out. You must be thrilled.”  
“Well, I’m not going to pretend I’m distraught. However, I figured you could use some assistance…after all, I know how heavy that stuff is. Do you want my help or not?”  
“….Yeah. Thanks.”  
The box of porn magazines suddenly rose into the air and hovered in place, carried by telekinesis.  
“ _Much_ easier to lift things this way,” Roscoe noted. “And no, I won’t drop it.”  
They walked out to the rental van together, Len grunting under the weight of the TV and Roscoe whistling casually to himself. Star and Nate helped pack the belongings into the van, and the two men carried all the heavy items, doing the job in half the time and each having to exert only half the effort. Everything went better than expected.

“Thanks again,” Len said appreciatively to his brother-in-law when they were done, shaking hands.  
Lisa watched them from an upstairs window and smiled.  
“Not a problem,” Roscoe replied with a slight grin. “I may be ‘damn crazy’, but I’m still good for something.”  
Len winced; Lisa must have told him about their conversation. “Shit, look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”  
“I know it’s true as well as you do. All I ask is that you not get between Lisa and I -- believe it or not, we know what we’re doing. We’ve had over fifteen years to practice marriage. And I love her with all my heart, so it would kill me if she left again…I couldn’t stop her if she wanted to go, but please don’t encourage her to do so.”

“I’m just trying to look out for my sister, Dillon. I love her too, you know.”  
“Of course. But I _need_ her, and I think she needs me too. I’m just asking you to let us work out things on our own, for better or for worse.”  
“Okay, you got it. But lemme warn you: if you start acting really crazy again, getting to be a burden on her, or she seems unhappy, I make no promises. I’m always gonna be on her side, Dillon, you have to understand that.”  
“Fair enough,” Roscoe said, frowning. “I want what’s best for her too.”  
“I get that…that’s why I’ve tolerated you all these years when I felt like pounding your head in,” Len admitted. “And she loves your sorry ass, for god knows what reason.” He grinned and smacked Roscoe on the back. “C’mon, dickhead, let’s go have a beer before we haul this crap to my new place.”  
“That assumes I’ll be helping you move into it,” his brother-in-law said with a raised eyebrow and smirk, but Len knew his tone well enough to understand he was joking.  
“Shut up or I’ll drink all your good stuff.”


End file.
